Thursday, 30 April 2015

Tonight is Walpurgis Night. It is April's Halloween. And today would feel like it is Halloween if only because of the cold temperature outside. If it was not for the blossoming trees and the evening falling relatively late, well, it would certainly be a perfect Halloween night. But Walpurgis Night is its sister. The name means "witches night" and thus I have decided to upload a picture of the ensign of a nearby village hall. If it looks familiar, it is because I uploaded a picture of the same place last year. I haven't discovered why they have a witch as an emblem yet. Shame on me. But I intend to find out before Halloween this year and keep you posted.

Anyway, maybe it is because there are many witches dwelling in secret in the village. In which case, it would be the right place to go to celebrate: there would be a witch's coven tonight, where they dance in circle and meet devils and maybe Satan in person. You can see that my imagination is running wild. I might read a scary story tonight to celebrate. Since I don't think there is a witch's coven to crash in.And in any case, tonight also reminds us that it is only six months until Halloween. In a way, it is the first night of its countdown.

Wednesday, 29 April 2015

We visited this dolmen during our last time in Brittany. I had wanted to see one for ages and, as a visit to Brocéliande was not possible for this stay (unfortunately), it was a great way to get in contact to one of the most important artifact of Breton folklore. Dolmens are associated with the supernatural in old myths and legends, they are allegedly the dwelling of Korrigans (for those who have not been reading this blog since its beginning, you might be interested to know that we have a Korrigan at home) and other magical creatures. We didn't see any of them, but it was not for lack of trying. It is true also that we were in the middle of the afternoon. At nighttime, it might have been different. Nevertheless, the place was very atmospheric and I could easily see why it could fire up the imagination of people.

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

This is our dilemma these days: my wife and I want to plan our summer holidays and we don't know where to go. We are very tempted to visit either Scotland, more particularly but not certainly Edinburgh, or Yorkshire, probably in York. Not the new one, the old one. She has been to York, but never to Scotland. I have been to Scotland, once, when I was a child. I have been longing for it since then. This is where my ancestors come from. A journey to Scotland has been long overdue. But then, there is Yorkshire, one of the most picturesque region of England and a that I have been curious about for quite a long while. And I know of a couple of places in York I already want to visit. So we are having this terrible dilemma.

Monday, 27 April 2015

This evening as I was walking home from the station, I bumped into my Italian friend (I really, really need to find pseudonyms for the blog) and her boyfriend. Something struck me right away: she was wearing a red winter coat. Well, I say winter, more like a winter coat for here, not much of a winter coat were I come from. I was wearing my autumn/spring Kanuk coat. And it struck me: I had started wearing it back since yesterday. After about two weeks of warm weather, of a Spring that felt like Spring, when I could have short sleeves, April as it is about to end decided to be cold and nasty. And what surprised me was that I was not even surprised. April was very much like I expected it to be eventually.

Sunday, 26 April 2015

One of the cousins my wife mentioned on Facebook that her nephew, the youngest one of the family, had his first steam train ride recently. He is only a toddler. I commented: "I envy him,: it took me 37 years to have mine." Which is rather incongruous, as I always loved trains. I did it last summer, twice. The first time in the journey from Dartmouth to Paignton. The picture on this post is from that time. The engine is aptly named Hercules. I actually found this first experience rather underwhelming. It was on my second journey, on another line (see my post about it here), that I was truly taken away and absolutely smitten. Now for the young boy, of course he loved it. There is just something about trains in general and steam trains in particular. I still don't know what.

Yesterday, my wife and I spent time with her friend (I really need to find names for all of them), her daughter (Buffy's owner) and her daughter's friend. We spend a good deal of time in a nearby park, the same where I took picture of the crows. The girls went in the hidden narrow paths through the trees and shrubbery on the outskirt of the park. They were playing make belief games and imagining the paths were full of zombies or monsters. Or whatever else. Did I mention that I love these kids and their twisted imagination? They were particularly fascinated by some mounds made of dry twigs, dry grass and small bits of wood.

They came back to us saying that some smoke was getting off one of the mounds. We went to check with them and they had not lied or imagined it: If you were scruffling a bit of the hill there was smoke coming out and it did feel like there was some small fire burning in it.Now the mounds' presence itself is easy to explain; we could see some trees had been trimmed, some might even have been cut down entirely, so we can assume these were remains of some gardening done on the order of the town authorities. But why the smoke, that is something else entirely. I know that in Québec people often burn dead leaves and dry grass during Springtime and I have often smell here smoke in Springtime, that may come from such bonfires. This would make sense. Or it may also be some kid throwing a match at it, or something of the sort. Whatever the case, I really wonder about these smoking mounds.

Saturday, 25 April 2015

This is an image from an book (with disc I received on my birthday, Mozart raconté aux enfants. I blogged about it before. The images were absolutely beautiful. The book/disc was my very first introduction to Mozart and his work. This image was the very first look I had at Papageno, immortal character from The Magic Flute, the bird-catcher of the Queen of the Night. He became my favourite character of the whole opera. He is the most interesting one, as he has a proper story arch and a proper personality, with a good heart but not too virtuous. Papageno is flawed: he can get drunk, he can lie, he often lacks courage. But he is also not without qualities: he is certainly resourceful and he shows loyalty to his friends. And he is a baritone, which is just my voice. I did try myself as some of his arias when I was learning to sing, but I struggled far more with German than I ever did with Italian. So here is his introductory aria, sung by Simon Keenlyside. He captures very well the personality of Papageno, carefree, with a hint of melancholia, longing for a simple kind of happiness.

Friday, 24 April 2015

I have decided to publish this picture partially because I wanted to use (again and I may add shamelessly) this expression, which I absolutely love. It is also and mainly because I wanted to share this picture. I took it a two weeks ago in a nearby park, on a cold Saturday of April, when we went to see my wife's friend who was there with her grandson, her daughter (Buffy's owner) and a friend of her daughter. It was sunny but there was a chilling wind that made it borderline freezing. The crows were in the middle of the park, walking there, indifferent to us, as if they were dominating the place. I thought it was beautiful and atmospheric.

Thursday, 23 April 2015

I did not need to be reminded by the Google Doodle today, but I am putting it on this post because it is a nice one (albeit not as nice as the one last year): it is Saint George's Day today. Which means that English people were reminded of their patron saint thanks to the Doodle. But not me. Oh no. I give proper respect to a dragon killer. I do want to celebrate St George's Day properly once, since it is on a weekday it was not really possible this time, but next year because of the gap year it will be on a weekend, so I intend to do something special. I already have a few ideas, not all of them involving drinking. But I have a year to plan it. Until then, enjoy Saint George's Day.

Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Just like every year, Google reminded me with his Doodle that today is Earth Day. I was not sure how to commemorate it this year, then I thought that we didn't have Pink Floyd for a while on Vraie Fiction. So I decided to upload here Take it Back from The Division Bell. Not my favourite Pink Floyd album by far, but it is an eco-friendly song and I cannot put every year the Discovery Channel's jingle. And Pink Floyd, even a tad preachy, is still Pink Floyd.

Tuesday, 21 April 2015

It is my birthday today, I am 38. Ouch! In two years time, I will be 40. The thirties are going sharp and fast. I still remember when I turned 30, it feels like yesterday. But I shouldn't complain: for my mother, this birthday and my age comes even more like a shock. She told me yesterday: "Sometimes it feels like you were going to turn 8 only yesterday." I said: "This yesterday was 30 years ago." A fatalist line, but a great unknown line nevertheless. I will look at it at the bright side: I still have two years of relative youth to live and I am being spoiled today.

Monday, 20 April 2015

I must have a geek fever: I am in the mood these days to revisit another Fighting Fantasy Gamebook, actually a whole saga: the Sorcery! series, where you play either a magician or a warrior and where you need to recapture a magical artifact from an evil archmage through the course of four books. I first read The Shamutanti Hills when I was 10. It is the only book of the whole series I read, actually. I was attracted by the picture of the manticore on the front cover. It looked devilish and very menacing and was contrasting nicely with the bucolic background.
In French the book was titled "Les collines maléfiques" (i.e. The Evil Hills). In fact, the hills were not really evil. Yes, they were full of dangers, but there was also plenty of little villages that were friendly and your character was not lost for ages in dark dungeons, mazes or say a sinister forest. As a setting, the Shamutanti Hills were full of character and the book in itself was more of a medieval fantasy travelogue with a few self-contained adventures and some interesting encounters with locals. Oh and there was a manticore to fight near the end of the journey. It influenced us enough in later years when we started playing Dungeons & Dragons: one of the most important monsters we fought in our first adventure was a manticore.

Sunday, 19 April 2015

As usual, I slept late this morning. Sunday is usually the day of the week when I am at my laziest and such a late sleeper. And then I lie in for a little while after I woke up. This morning, someone rang at the door. Not so early, it might have been past 10. Still. On a Sunday morning, I find it downright rude. We were not expecting anyone. I didn't answer. Which is just as well, as whoever did it did not insist. I wonder who that was. Jehovah's Witnesses, maybe? I wouldn't be surprised. I have to confess, it was my first suspicion, but it could have been anyone, simply someone who rang the wrong door or something. All the same, one of the advantages of being an atheist is that I don't have to get up early on Sunday and I want it to stay that way. The doorbell ringing on Sunday morning is, as far as I'm concerned, a disturbance of peace.

Saturday, 18 April 2015

I took this picture from the Facebook page of artist Fabian Perez. It is called Nomades III and I think he is in a Gypsie/Bohemian creative mood these days, if the painting is recent. Anyway, Bohemians seem to be one of his (new?) pet subjects. Like he did with the bordellos, he glamorized the Nomadic life, here the practice of chiromancy by two femmes fatales being at the center of the frame. They could belong to the universe of Carmen, either the opera or the novella. In fact, I wonder if this is not Perez's take on the character of Carmen. One of these two women could be her.

Thursday, 16 April 2015

No, this is not a Batman gadget (and although Batman is my favourite superhero I always thought his gadgets had such stupid names). It is a house for bats, bought by my father-in-law to give a proper home to the bats that dwell in his garden and sometimes under his roof. You can read more about bat boxes here. We have bats here too, I consider them neighbours, although very elusive ones. I wish we could place bat boxes here too, maybe the bats would not be so elusive. I mentioned a number of times on this blog why I love bats: its popular association with vampires and of course Batman and because they are shy creatures of the night that bring character to a garden. So I really wish we could have a bat box or two here.

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

I blogged about it before in French, but thought about revisiting it in a post in English. During our last holiday at my parents-in-laws' place, we got woken up every morning by the birds in the garden and the nearby woods. Their respective cry, mainly, but also the tic-tic-tic-tok of the woodpecker pecking. At first I thought it was a machine doing it, some kind of drill or something. It may sound stupid, but when you are still groggy from a long night's sleep it does sound mechanical. Then it struck me that it was a woodpecker. And of course it reminded me of Woody Woodpecker, who was my childhood's matinees' hero and my favourite toon character ever. More than Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Speedy Gonzalez, Road Runner, Tom and Jerry or whoever. I am a Woody Woodpecker fan. So I found it very fitting the woodpecker at work every morning. And every time I could hear the theme tune of the cartoon... This one:

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

I took this picture very quickly at the Costa Coffee of SouthamptonAirport. We had a train to catch, so I could not waste any time. So it is not as good a pic as it could have been and I had little time to find the right angle. I often love Costa franchises, not for their coffee, because I don't like coffee, but because of the settings themselves. I think they often have character, far more for some reason than most coffee chains. Well, this one is an airport's coffeehouse, so I could not expect it to have much character, but there was this lovely terrestrial globe.

It is pretty easy to understand why I love this globe so much: it is old-fashioned, old-looking. And especially, in the spaces where oceans are, there are sea monsters that have been drawn. Sea monsters. Like in the ancient maps from ancient times. So it is a globe that is aesthetically pleasing, one that is very artsy. I would buy a globe like this one for here if there was any room for it.

Monday, 13 April 2015

Since the fifth season of Game of Thrones has started and I eagerly watched it tonight, I thought about uploading here the parody from Sesame Street. It is very funny, surprisingly very accurate, but also more surprisingly (given that it is a children's program) makes not so subtle allusions to very grim and bloody events of the show. It can be enjoyed for people who never watched the show or read the books, but it is even funnier for the initiate, because of these allusions. I often find children's educational programs as stupid as they are unfunny for adults. Not this one, at least not this time.

Sunday, 12 April 2015

I don't know if my readers outside the UK have heard of the word "chav", which could be freely translated by "white trash". Yesterday, I received a perfect example of what is/looks like a chav. My wife and I were walking with her friend, her friend's daughter (this daughter), her daughter's friend and her grandson (yes, my wife's friend is a young grandmother). Her grandson was in his push chair when the young grandma asked me: "Could you please push it while I am having a cigarette? Otherwise I will look way too chavy." What mattered more to me was that the smoke was thus not too close to the toddler, so he wouldn't have to breath it. But chavs would not care about it at all, so I guess that she is not a chavette (or a chavy granny?). And I am glad, because not only would I have found smoking close to a toddler wrong on so many levels and utterly inconsiderate, but I really don't like chavy behavior in general. Anyway, the line really made us laugh, so I think it deserves to be a great unknown line.

Saturday, 11 April 2015

As I was planning to do soon after I bought this book, I read Beowulf. And I have a terrible confession to make: I was not overly enthusiastic about it. Not nearly as much as I was reading the saga of the Volsungs, which I really, really loved and could not get enough of. I don't know why, it did not click with Beowulf. This is not to say that I did not enjoy the read, just that I did not love it as much as I thought I would. Shame on me.

That said, I loved, loved, loved the Grendel character. You can see him here, as drawn by illustrator Alan Lee. He looks very much like Gollum in this picture. It gives a certain vulnerability in spite of his malevolence. Grendel's physique is only very vaguely described in the epic poem. We have verses like these:

"Rage-inflamed, wreckage-bent, he ripped openthe jaws of the hall. Hastening on,The foe then stepped onto the unstained floor,Angrily advanced: out of his eyes stoodAn unlovely light like that of fire"

Grendel is described through his actions (here its display of strength) and emotions, this ever present anger. It is evocative rather than descriptive. Grendel is one kind of monster: descendant of Cain, he thus has a human parentage. He is not quite a giant, although larger than a man, he has the appetites of an ogre, but his motivations are at the core vindictive: it is the songs and laughter coming from Heorot that drive him to take vengeful actions. In its simplicity, it is a powerful plot. An inspiring one too. I mentioned in my previous post on Beowulf that I intended to read it partially to calm my longing for Dungeons & Dragons. Now I kind of regret not reading the story a few years ago. A monster inspired by Grendel could have made an excellent foil for a few adventures.

Friday, 10 April 2015

It is Friday, so as it is a weekend tradition I am plugging a meal from a specific restaurant. Here, a rather plain, utterly unexciting meal from an unexciting place: the Olive Tree restaurant in Southampton Airport. You can't get more banal than a plain old fish finger sandwich with chips. Yet last week, waiting for the plane, hungry, it was exactly what I wanted and it is exactly what I got. It was both filling and delicious. And cheap too, as you can see on the menu: £6.25. In an airport, finding a meal that is not a ripoff is in itself an exploit. Oh and you cannot see it here, but I asked for mayonnaise to go with the chips. I might make some myself one night, just for fun.

I took this picture in the garden of my in laws, it is one of the beers of the Brasserie Lancelot I often drink when I am in Brittany. I have rediscovered one of the pleasures of drinking outside, in the garden. Not a pub's garden, but a proper, private, home garden. When the weather is warm enough, like it was then, it is pretty much idyllic. I used to do it very often, as soon as it was warm outside I'd take a beer out and had it in the family garden as an afternoon ritual at weekends. It doesn't get any better than that. Anyway, this is one of the many things I am going to miss from our time there, even though my liver will be grateful: I drank far more last week than I usually do.

Thursday, 9 April 2015

Well, I just thought I'd mention it. Not to be smug or anything, but I won at Scrabble. No small feat for me: English is not my first language and I arrived late in the game. The funniest thing is: I loathe Scrabble, usually. I find it dumb. A game when the meaning or understanding of the words have no importance, but simply the capacity to get the maximum points from a bunch of letters. Think about it, Scrabble is the linguist's nightmare, the lobotomized, braindead version of its science, turned into rigor mortis. If you are cunning and devious enough, you can win by bluffing words. Which ironically I didn't do. I just got the right letters. So anyway, I signaled to my wife: "I arrived late in a non-competitive game of Scrabble, English is a second language to me, I hate this game, yet I won." Not gloating or anything, as I said. Yet I think it deserves to be a great unknown line. Just because. Victory is all the sweeter as I do not give it any importance.

Wednesday, 8 April 2015

I would not say I have rediscovered tea in Brittany, but I certainly drink far more of it since I am here. It occured to me that I drink about three or four times in a day, including evenings, and that I do not feel remotely nervous when going to bed. I sleep soundly anyway. Which I find amazing. Anyway, I am spoiled: look at the lovely mprovised tea set I receive every time my mother-in-law makes tea. A nice transparent tea pot and the most gorgeous tea mug, made by a local artesan. In fact, just for the cheer pleasure of drinking in this mug, I drink more tea.

Quick post about this year's Easter, which came and went a bit quickly. This is the omelette I made for Easter lunch, to share wiht ma wife and my parents-in-law. Nothing fancy: a few eggs, a bit of milk, some local cheese and chives from the garden. I now have omelettes every Easter, because my wife wouldn't let me have lamb and because it is easier to share an omelette with a vegetarian (her) and some quasi vegetarians (my in-laws). Anyway, it was not my best omelette, but I was nevertheless quite happy with the results. And I think doing something with eggs for an Easter meal makes sense thematically.

Monday, 6 April 2015

Since I came here in Brittany, I have been enjoying the garden wildlife. Mainly the birds, which are not that often seen, but are very much heard. There are some cries that are very distinctive. One was a shriek, something brief but piercing. My mother-in-law told me they were buzzards, who have nests in the woods nearby. I hope to take a look at these nests and maybe see the buzzards before the end of our holidays.

This is what I have been asking myself today. Easter came and went yesterday. We are Easter Monday and it is a bank holiday. A pleasant enough day, but I feel like Easter was over too quickly. It is said of every holiday, I know, but unlike other holidays Easter is at a different date, a slightly different time of year every year. So it can be too early. This year I thought it was at the right time, until it happened. Maybe I did not work hard enough on it. I don't know. But I cannot complain: I have a few more days to enjoy my free time. And you, how was your Easter? Do you think it happened too quickly?

Sunday, 5 April 2015

My wife and I are on holidays for Easter. Which reminds me, where are my manners: happyEaster everyone. But it means we traveled yesterday when major travel disruptions caused by works on the trainline. We spent most of our journey in buses, uncomfortable ones, than on the train. On the plus side, and I was happily surprised they were that thoughtful: they were serving free tea and coffee for the weary travelers. On a cold day, it was most welcome. Rarely a cuppa ever tasted so good.

Friday, 3 April 2015

The bagel on these pictures comes from St-Viateur. Well of course, I am not the kind of expat who eats a bagel from anywhere else. Because bagels here and outside Montreal are a joke. Anyway, today is Good Friday, which means that I will eat fish. Out of tradition rather than devotion. I think putting fish on the menu on Friday is a perfect reason in itself to eat more fish, which is maybe the healthiest type of meat, and what more pleasant way to eat fish than as smoked salmon in a authentic, proper bagel that comes from Montreal. I don't fast often, but when I do, it is in a decadent way.

When I was in Montreal, this is what I would have at every Good Friday and in many "ordinary" Fridays too, as a treat. I cannot remember when I started doing it, I think it was Easter 1997, but once I did, I never stopped: I bought my bagels and salmon at St-Viateur on the day, then had them for dinner. Sometimes lunch too. In England, I tried to follow it, but the bagels here are so vile that I abandoned the tradition quickly. Instead I had fish and chips or some other fish. When I went back to Montreal, I resumed the tradition with bagels and smoked salmon. This year, as I have some stock of proper bagels, I will resume it. Feasting and fasting sometimes go hand in hand.

Thursday, 2 April 2015

It is Maundy Thursday today. So Easter is at the door. Lent is nearly over. Often I barely feel the time leading to Easter. Easter just happens. On the way there, the many Easter decorations on display in the shops. (By the way, the picture on this post was taken in a shop in Henley, which I think has a fitting name for a post on Easter.) Sometimes it happens too fast, especially when Easter is in March. This year, since it comes in early April, I find it coming at an adequate time. Anyway, Maundy Thursday evening is the beginning of the Easter holiday, the moment when you can really start looking forward to Easter. The whole forty something days before, it is a long, long wait.

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Does anyone know where I got the quote I used for this post's title from? Today, in case nobody's noticed, is April Fool's Day. Also incidentally the first day of April, but nobody cares about it. I associate the day a lot with an episode of the season 4 of The Simpsons, called So It's Come to This: A Simpsons Clip Show. For a clip show, it was actually brilliant. It was also set on April Fool's Day and after. At the beginning of the episode, Lisa explains the origins of the day, saying it came from Pagans. Cut to a flashbacks of the family, as primitives, dancing around an idol and chanting... Yes, "Blood for Baal! Blood for Baal!" If you are in the US, you can see the clip here. If not, you can read the story here. I am sorry I could not find a video to go with this post. For some reasons I have not quite grasped, I found this bit absolutely hilarious and it never fails to crack me up. Something about seeing America's most famous and most loved middle class family worshiping the god/demon Baal. It doesn't get any funnier than this.